


By Their Side

by twoseas



Series: Always Been There, Always Will [2]
Category: Star Trek, Star Trek: Alternate Original Series (Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Children, Alternate Universe - Different First Meeting, Alternate Universe - Gender Changes, Alternate Universe - Not Starfleet, But not quite, F/F, Fluff, Getting Together, Happy Ending, Hurt/Comfort, Light Angst, M/M, Mirror Universe (Star Trek), Multiverse, Starfleet Academy, call me JJ Abrams, cuz I’m playing real fast and loose with Star Trek, so many alternate universes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-30
Updated: 2020-08-30
Packaged: 2021-03-07 01:14:33
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 7,666
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26188561
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/twoseas/pseuds/twoseas
Summary: How Spock and Jim get together in various universes.Featuring space wives, science husbands, a savage yet insecure pirate and his exhausted ally in an angst ridden world, the leader of the Vulcan Empire and his psychotic admirer, adorable yet intense children, and Academy era lovers of chess.
Relationships: James T. Kirk/Spock
Series: Always Been There, Always Will [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1901731
Comments: 40
Kudos: 161





	1. A First Officer and a Gentlewoman

**Author's Note:**

> Two years later I have written a companion piece!
> 
> The first three chapters feature the get togethers for Spocks and Jims I first wrote in “Jim, James, Captain, and Kirk” while the last three are new bonus universes that were poached from abandoned wips. Reduce reuse recycle, even in fic. 
> 
> Please, enjoy!

Spock waited outside her captain’s quarters, centering herself. 

It had been some time since she began to care for her captain, but only more recently could Spock admit such things to herself. Now that she recognized the feelings that so often left her confused and conflicted where her captain was concerned, their private games of chess had taken on an undoubtedly one-sided tension that did little to alleviate the pressure in her abdomen. 

“Come on in!” Jim shouted, the door sliding open to allow Spock entry. 

The chess set was ready and waiting, pieces neatly lined up in place. Spock walked over, hovering a finger over the queen as she contemplated her reactions to her captain. 

“Sorry, I’m running a little late,” Jim said from the vicinity of her closet. “Incident down in engineering. I love Scotty, but the woman needs to learn to warn a guy when Keenser gets into the oil.”

Jim walked out while still pulling on a thin tanktop, toned midriff entirely exposed. 

Spock vaguely registered the sounds of half the chess pieces falling off the board and onto the floor. 

“You ok?” Jim asked, concern lining her face. She rushed over and knelt to pick up the scattered pieces. 

“My apologies, Captain,” Spock managed in a stiff, slow voice. “I am…unsure what came over me.”

“Accidents happen, Ms Spock,” Jim smiled reassuringly. Her hair was loose and without product, fringe falling over her forehead and nearly brushing her long lashes. 

Spock made to help her captain clean up the mess she caused, eyes caught by the shiny fall of blonde hair and gentle smile. 

They simultaneously reached for a piece and Spock, to her great shame, allowed herself to succumb to illogical temptation. 

Her captain was unpredictable and captivating, with a magnetic presence that escaped even the best of her species. Bright in her joy, tragic yet solid in her sorrow. Full of wonder and human whimsy, but reliable and considerate, capable of shouldering the burden of captaincy and all it entailed. For all her time serving beside Jim, Spock continued to be surprised by her and Spock would never have it any other way - as frustrating as she often found it. 

So when Jim’s fingers brushed against Spock’s, the touch feather light and lingering, Spock loosened her telepathy enough to perceive the sparking, electric light of Jim’s mind. 

It was even more astounding than Spock imagined.

Loud, busy, bright. Yet serene. Organized chaos made familiar and comforting. 

It was undeniably Jim. 

Amongst the general beauty of Jim’s mind, there rose an overwhelming love and longing that had the corners of Spock’s eyes stinging with the threat of tears she hadn’t felt since she was a child, too young to control her physical response to emotions. Desperate yearning, fear of rejection, a need to hide. Passionate love, loyalty, undeniable desire. 

All of it directed at Spock herself.

Jim blinked, expression placid despite the roiling emotions that Spock now knew lay within. “Are you sure you’re alright, Spock?”

There was no simple answer for such a question.

Mind reeling with the pure, unfiltered affections of her captain, Spock leaned forward and caught Jim’s mouth in a hard kiss. 

Jim immediately responded, eager despite the surprise and trepidation Spock felt through the contact of their hands. Her lips were soft and tasted faintly of vanilla.

Spock pulled away first, gasping out. “I’m sorry, Captain.”

Face crumpling, Jim looked off to the side and Spock nearly cursed herself for her poorly chosen words. 

“I have betrayed your trust,” Spock told her, voice lowering in shame as she stared down at their still connected fingers. 

Jim’s eyes snapped up, confusion replacing sadness. 

Careful and deliberate, Spock slid their hands more fully together. Never before had she been so forward, but Spock needed Jim to know just how reciprocated her feelings were as well as the illicit manner in which Spock obtained knowledge of them. She never wanted to deceive her captain.

“Touch telepath,” Jim blurted, shock etched across her expressive face. “You know I…”

Jim trailed off, at a loss for words in a way she so rarely was. 

“Yes.”

The simple answer seemed the most truthful and appropriate. 

“And you’re ok with that?” Jim asked, tone carefully neutral though panic and anxiety creased the skin around her eyes. 

“Captain, I believe my highly inappropriate and unprofessional reaction indicates that I am far more than ‘ok’ with it,” Spock told her bluntly. 

Jim’s grin grew wide and delighted as she turned her hand within Spock’s and twined their fingers together. 

Spock’s breath caught. 

Her grin quirking deviously, Jim purred, “Why, Ms Spock, you can be inappropriate and unprofessional with me any time you like.”

Never before had excessive emotion made Spock feel so certain of herself.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Jim: Be honest. Are we only together because I sort of flashed you?   
> Spock: No. That is not the only reason.   
> Jim: Ok cool.   
> Spock: ...there are many reasons. That is only one.


	2. Science Boys

Bouncing on the balls of his feet and beaming out his smug satisfaction, Jim swatted Spock’s shoulder and crowed, “Did you see his face?! God, I thought he was going to try and kill me right there.”

Spock nodded his head in acknowledgment. “Stonn did seem…perturbed.”

“Hell fucking yeah he was perturbed,” Jim chuckled, loud and unfettered. “Vulcans don’t have emotions my ass.”

A trio of botanists walked past them, shooting them displeased looks. 

“See?’ Jim waved at them carelessly. “More proof.”

Spock let his judgmental silence answer for him. 

Jim smiled a little sheepishly. “Anyway, how do you want to celebrate?”

Lifting an eyebrow, Spock gave the question some thought. “I was unaware that presenting a rebuttal to an academic peer’s paper required celebration.”

“ _ Academic peer _ ,” Jim scoffed. “Stonn’s not a peer. He’s a little bitch.”

Spock pressed his lips together to keep from smiling. 

“Jim!” Spock’s mother appeared from around the corner, a disapproving frown on her face. Despite that, her eyes were amused. 

“Ah.” Jim froze guiltily. “Hello, uh, Lady Amanda.”

“What did I say about that ‘Lady” nonsense?”

“To…not do it.”

“And yet you did it.”

“It’s polite! I’m trying to be respectful for once!” Jim declared, throwing his arms out helplessly. 

“Well, I don’t need it. But a word of advice - it wouldn’t hurt to practice a little discretion around here sometimes,” Spock’s mother cautioned Jim playfully. “You’ve only just finished your first year with the academy. They might still kick you out.”

Jim snorted, but Spock barely reigned in his frown. “Mother, Jim’s discoveries and advancements in such a short period of time have already reflected positively on the VSA. To expel him would be illogical. He is a credit to the academy.”

“Ah, well, I wouldn’t have managed it without you,” Jim immediately assured him with a bashful tilt to his head. “Our collaborations have been the really amazing thing.”

Spock blinked at him. “Before making my acquaintance, you published well received papers with a consistent degree of frequency, developed innovative computer programming, and registered the patents to four inventions. I am hardly necessary.”

“I wouldn’t be so sure,” Jim mumbled, looking off towards the street. He raised his voice and addressed Spock’s mother. “What are you doing here, La-” Spock’s mother graced him with a sharp look, “-Amanda?”

“I wasn’t going to miss your presentation,” Spock’s mother told them proudly. She reached out and adjusted Spock’s robes, smoothing the fabric. “I was very impressed with how you two comported yourselves and your research was certainly compelling. Your father will be disappointed he missed it.”

“Thank you, Mother.” Spock allowed himself a modest smile which in turn made his mother’s smile grow.

Before Jim, Spock might’ve been embarrassed at such a public display. His mother had always been a source of steady comfort, affection, and love for him, he could never forget that, but that did not undo the embarrassment he felt at being singled out and scrutinized for his differences or the discomfort he experienced when such differences were freely demonstrated. 

Then Jim came to Vulcan with his easy acceptance. 

He liked Spock - not as a human or a Vulcan, but as the half-human, half-Vulcan individual he was. Jim made no secret of his approval of Spock, openly courting his friendship at every opportunity and recommending him to any being who happened to provide him the opportunity to speak of Spock’s qualities. Furthermore, unlike Spock’s mother who restrained herself amid Vulcan company to make them more comfortable in her presence, Jim was undeniably open with his emotionality. He did not outright disrespect the Vulcan culture - indeed, he possessed an intelligent curiosity as well as a capacity for empathy that welcomed cultural exchange - but he remained undeniably and unquestionably human. He did not back down when faced with disapproval and he often combined his own emotional leanings with logic and science to argue against those who chose to voice their dissatisfaction with his behavior. 

All of this and the almost envious way Jim sometimes watched Spock when he was with his mother all worked to remind Spock not to be ashamed of his human mother’s open affections or his own emotional inclinations. Spock could place logic above sentimentality and honor the house of his father. But that did not mean he had to denounce Amanda Grayson. 

He did not have to choose one or the other. He could be the best of both. Jim helped Spock realize this. 

His mother’s words drew Spock from his minor reverie.

“I also came on a mission,” she told them, voice lowered as if she were engaged in subterfuge. “Dinner at our house. I have a special meal planned and I was wondering if you could make it, Jim?”

Jim looked to Spock as if seeking his approval. Approval was not Spock’s to give so he merely looked back at the other man and eagerly awaited his answer. 

Jim returned his attentions to Spock’s mother. “I would love to! What’s the dress code?”

Spock’s mother pressed her palms together in a pleased gesture. “Oh, good! And no dresscode, you could even change into something more casual if you like. This is more of a family dinner, so I want you to be comfortable.”

“That sounds perfect,” Jim told her warmly. “When should I arrive?”

“About an hour or so,” Spock’s mother informed him. “Sarek shouldn’t be running late, but I like to give him a little wiggle room if something important comes up. Does that work for you?”

“Absolutely.” Jim hooked his thumb in the direction of his apartment building. “I guess I should be going. Got to make myself presentable and figure out something to bring.”

“You just need to bring yourself,” Spock’s mother insisted. 

“Delightful as I am,” Jim joked, “I’d never forgive myself the breech in etiquette. See you both soon?”

“See you soon!” Spock’s mother waved amiably. 

Spock nodded. 

Jim’s gaze lingered for 2.5 seconds, then he jogged off with his own farewell wave. 

Spock watched him leave until the crowd hid him from view. 

“That boy,” Spock’s mother said, voice full of repressed laughter, “is so in love with you, I don’t know how he gets any work done.”

Spock could not think of an appropriate response for such an accusation. “Mother,” was all he managed. 

“Oh, come on, Spock,” she chastised. “You must see it. You spend every day with him.”

“Jim is my…friend,” Spock allowed, voice stilted and off. 

“I don’t doubt that,” his mother said as she looped her arm through his and led him towards their transport. “What I also don’t doubt is that he’s head over heels. And I like him all the more for it since it shows he has good taste.”

She pat Spock’s arm fondly. 

“Where is your evidence?” Spock inquired, pulse quickening as the possibility settled in his mind. 

It was not as if Spock hadn’t considered his feelings for his partner and friend. However, there existed a substantial difference between considering his own feelings, acknowledging the hope that they were reciprocated, and acting on the impulse. Spock found himself stuck on the first of the three. 

“He looks at you the way I look at your father,” she told Spock. She giggled suddenly, covering her mouth with her hand. “I’ve done my share of goodbyes like the one he just did - staying a beat too long just to look at the person you love for one more second.”

“2.5 seconds,” Spock corrected. 

She shook her head knowingly. “Spock, Jim is crazy about you. The real question is what do you feel about him?”

Spock was saved from having to respond when they arrived at their transport. His mother got in silently, but not before looking at Spock with an arch rise to her eyebrow. 

He recognized the expression and came to the conclusion that it was less satisfying to be on the receiving end. 

Spock answered the door of his family home almost exactly an hour later. Jim stood there with a bottle of terran red wine in one hand and a wooden box of fine quality spiced tea in the other. He no longer wore his outfit from the presentation, pressed dress shirt and pants replaced by a dark blue sweater and jeans. Both clung to his frame. He held out his offerings. 

“Wine for your mom, tea for you and Sarek,” Jim told him with an anxious grin. “I hope I picked the right ones.”

“While my mother will undoubtedly reaffirm her previous point that your company is enough,” Spock told him, accepting the box of tea with a pleased ache in the vicinity of his stomach. “I can confirm that these will be well received. You have my thanks, Jim. The tea is my favorite.”

Jim’s smile became ecstatic and Spock realized that perhaps his mother was right. He had simply been too busy hiding his own feelings to even begin to perceive Jim’s own. 

Dinner was a pleasant affair. His mother prepared several of his favorite dishes along with terran recipes that had Jim gawking. 

“Your mom is the best,” Jim told him reverently, taking a large bite of a cheeseburger. He moaned indecently, making Spock’s mother laugh. It also caused Sarek to raise both of his eyebrows, bemused and vaguely offended. 

Spock used his not inconsiderable willpower to focus on his own meal and not the vocal enjoyment of the man sitting next to him. 

When the meal was finished, Spock’s mother forcefully denied all offers to help clean up. 

“You two relax in the garden with your tea. It’s a lovely night. Sarek and I can clean up.” 

Spock’s father started to speak, “Perhaps Spock could-”

“Your father and I have it covered,” his mother cut clear across him. 

Something must have passed between them through their bond because Sarek paled and immediately left towards the kitchen. 

“Something up with your parents?” Jim asked as soon as they were both seated comfortably. “Because I can leave.”

Night was falling, the air cooling substantially. Jim shifted on the bench, knee brushing against Spock’s in a warm point of contact. Spock most certainly did not want him to leave.

“I believe my mother was trying to give us our privacy,” Spock answered after a brief moment debating what to say. 

“Oh.” Jim blew on his tea and made to take a sip, mumbling against the ceramic. “Why?”

“Because she is convinced you are in love with me.”

Jim sputtered, spilling tea over the rim of the cup and onto his hands and lap. 

“Oh my god.” Jim stared with empty, unseeing eyes at his tea stained hands and partially full cup. 

Spock frowned down at the reddening skin where hot tea had come into contact with vulnerable flesh. 

“Are you injured?” Spock asked. “We have a medical kit in the kitchen. Come.”

“No, no, fuck, no, I’m fine,” Jim babbled, setting the cup onto a side table Spock and his family often used for that very purpose. He dried his wet hands against his jean clad thighs, hurried and uncaring. “It’s just a little hot.”

Spock followed Jim’s agitated motions with increasing concern. “Are you certain there’s nothing I can do?”

Jim shook his head, still wiping his hands. 

The spiced scent was stronger now, permeating the air between them. 

“Had I known you would react in this manner, I would have waited until after you finished your tea to address the matter,” Spock mused. 

Head dropping down, Jim cursed quietly. When he straightened out, there was an awkward and uncomfortable contortion to his features. “Have I made this weird?” Jim winced. “Like when we go to work. Is it going to be weird?”

Eyes darting over Jim, Spock tried to process his reaction while giving the questions the consideration they were due. “There is no logical reason why our work environment should suffer any atypicality.”

“Good,” Jim whispered, scrubbing his palms over his face. “Fuck. Ok. I’m glad for that at least.”

“I’m not certain I understand why you harbored concern over it becoming ‘weird’ as you say,” Spock admitted, recognizing that there was some sort of misunderstanding between them. 

Jim laughed, high and hysterical. “Spock. It’s weird when you know your friend and co-worker is in love with you and you aren’t in love with them.”

Spock blinked. “Such a situation does not apply to us.”

“What?” Jim demanded, frustrated in his confusion. “Of course it does!”

Affronted himself, Spock turned to face the other man when he realized the nature of the misunderstanding. “Jim.”

“Spock,” Jim mimicked. 

“Would you be interested in entering into a romantic relationship with me?” Spock asked, clear in his enunciation. 

Jim was dumbfounded, but he answered quickly. “Yeah. Obviously.”

Spock nodded his pleasure. “I find this resolution more than satisfactory.”

“Awesome,” Jim declared, bright blue eyes wide and astonished.

“I believe a kiss would be appropriate,” Spock suggested, heart rate rising and mouth going dry. “If you will allow me?”

“You get blanket permission for that, Spock,” Jim informed him seriously. “Literally anytime you want to do that, you can do that.”

Permission granted, Spock leaned in and pressed his lips to Jim’s hesitantly. The simple kiss broke not because either of them pulled away, but because Jim’s lips stretched into a wide grin that made the gesture of affection difficult. Spock’s own mouth formed a broader smile than he had allowed since childhood, hardly helping matters. 

Jim’s next laugh was a soft exhalation that Spock could feel, their foreheads pressed together and noses brushing. 

“Your clothing is damp with tea,” Spock remembered. “You may borrow something of mine, if it would please you.”

Reaching up, Jim touched Spock’s face with a tender devotion tinged in awe, fingertips brushing over clean shaven skin. The pad of his thumb gently swept over the line of Spock’s cheekbone. Spock swallowed as the touch sent sparks of sensation through him, making him shiver. 

“Yeah,” Jim accepted the offer in a low, rough voice. “That’d be great.”

“On further consideration,” Spock brought up in a similar tone. “Perhaps it would be more prudent for us to leave for your apartment.”

“That’d be even better,” Jim breathed, tipping his head enough to reconnect their lips. 

Spock could freely admit that he and Jim were far more than adequate collaborators. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Amanda, face pressed against the kitchen window: It’s happening! They’re doing it! I can’t believe it!   
> Sarek, aggressively scrubbing a plate: Please refrain from describing what they’re doing.   
> Amanda: Oh, come on. They’re cute.   
> Sarek, catching sight of Spock and Jim holding hands: So forward, this son of mine.


	3. Pain and Peace

Spock followed behind Jim, phaser at the ready while the other man plowed through Marcus’ sympathizers. Jim’s teeth were bared as he shot down man after man, clearing their way to the control room. 

“Spock!” Jim shouted over the blaring alarm and blasts, features cast in sharp relief by the emergency lights that seemed to accentuate the scar that ran down the left side of his face. “Cover me!”

He dived into the control room amidst a hail of phaser fire. 

Spock took aim, shooting down several of the more aggressive attackers and warding off the rest. 

“Got it!” Jim reappeared, a datachip clutched in his hand. He tucked it into a pocket and nodded sharply at Spock. “Ready to go?”

“More than,” Spock commented lightly, eyebrow raised. 

An amused smile appeared on the man’s face, though the expression was quickly stifled. 

“Then let’s see them off with a proper goodbye.” Holding up the detonator in his metal hand, Jim met Spock’s gaze, his features triumphant and tipped with a cruel edge. 

Spock nodded and Jim pressed the button while the two of them took off running in the direction of their docked pod. 

A series of explosions rocked the already damaged ship. 

Jim reached the pod first, prepared to pilot the two of them away from the disintegrating ship.

Spock was moments away from entering the pod himself when something burned across his side. Crying out, Spock hurled himself in after Jim and collapsed, vision fading into nothingness. 

Spock awoke to the sensation of floating. He felt oddly at peace, though there was something unreal and foggy about it all. His eyes fluttered, lids barely lifting enough to allow sight. What he saw caused Spock to suspect he must be dreaming. 

He was laying on the floor in Jim’s ship, head near the bulkhead. Jim was on his knees beside him, jacket off and sleeves pushed up to his elbows, his hands stained with green blood. His brow was furrowed in worry, a sheen of sweat making his tanned skin glisten under the dim lights of his ship. His bright eyes, normally either hard and full of barely concealed rage or curiously unreadable, were obviously panicked as he focused on Spock’s side. Tension tightened his shoulders and thinned his lips into a line. His flesh hand shook as he adhered a large bandage to Spock’s bare abdomen, his touch surprisingly gentle. 

Jim was never gentle with Spock. And he rarely touched him. 

In the 11.8 months since they agreed to a truce, Jim had deliberately touched Spock eight times. 

On day 2 of their truce, he used his mechanical left arm to shove Spock through a wall. This was, of course, an immediate response to Spock grabbing him by the throat when he refused to obey Spock’s commands and instead directed words precisely designed to wound and elicit an emotional response. They successfully stole plans for Marcus’ new warships, but both suffered substantial bruising before the mission even commenced.

On day 13 of their truce, Jim peeled Spock’s fingers from around his throat once more, head butting Spock in retaliation as he let out a guttural scream of rage. He broke three of Spock’s fingers, sprained a fourth, and suffered four fractured ribs himself. 

On day 25 of their truce, Jim punched Spock in the jaw using his flesh hand. It was not as strong as his mechanical limb, but it was still capable of giving Spock a minor concussion. Spock recalled with perfect clarity Jim’s broken expression when Spock mentioned Doctor McCoy. It was perhaps more efficacious than the strike in informing Spock’s decision to never again bring up the doctor. 

On day 45 of their truce, Jim dragged Spock under cover and immediately released him with a sharp order to, “Watch it!” They failed to capture their intended target, an admiral and one of Marcus’ closest allies, but they did destroy 24.7 percent of Marcus’ armada. Nyota was disappointed at the loss of a chance to interrogate the man herself, though she was satisfied with his death and those of his most merciless captains and their fully armed warships. 

On day 68 of their truce, he pushed Spock away from a control panel in order to hack the Federation designed prison, thus freeing every prisoner before the warden even noticed the breach in security. 32.4 percent of the prisoners were children of various species.

On day 122 of their truce, Jim tackled Spock to the ground, shielding him from the premature explosion of a weapons factory. When the last of the debris fell and they were no longer in danger, he immediately stood up and walked towards their borrowed ship, jacket torn, singed, and still smoking in places. He did not meet Spock’s gaze for seven days and five hours. 

On day 207 of their truce, he grabbed Spock’s hips from behind, causing Spock to stumble back into his chest. In doing so, he prevented a large bladed weapon from causing Spock grievous injury. He then turned on their attacker with a snarl, killing the man with brutal efficiency. After the incident, Spock caught Jim watching him for prolonged amounts of time. When Jim realized Spock had observed his observations, he ceased them almost entirely.

On day 318 of their truce, they landed on a planet with rocky terrain and near constant rainfall in order to meet an informant. It was a trap set by Marcus, a kill squad lying in wait. In the ensuing chase, Spock slipped and nearly fell. Jim steadied Spock by the arm and pulled him away from those hunting them. He didn’t let go until the two of them were once more safely aboard his ship. 

And now Jim touched him, shaky but purposeful. Jim smoothed the bandage down, mechanical and flesh hands equally careful and conscientious. When the bandage was secure, he tore open a packaged wipe with his teeth and proceeded to clean the blood that stained Spock’s stomach and chest. Jim needed to do the same with three more wipes. His touch remained light, never exacerbating Spock’s obviously medication dulled pain. He then grabbed a tricorder and ran it over Spock, eyes focused on the readings. Whatever he saw must have been satisfactory, muscles going lax as the tension left his body. He released a long, shuddering breath and sat heavily down onto the floor, setting the tricorder aside and drawing his legs up towards his chest. He hid his face in the cradle of his knees, head bowed and hands linked together over the back of his neck.

Facilities compromised, Spock was unable to determine the length of time Jim sat like that, completely and utterly still. 

Metal fingers ran through long, sweat damp strands as Jim raised his head and pushed the hair away from his face. His eyes were shiny, traces of tears streaking his cheeks. A small, disbelieving laugh escaped him and a smile slowly turned his lips upward. 

The expression was something Spock had never seen from Jim - genuine and soft, tender in a way Spock found utterly compelling. It made Jim look younger and less hardened by life. The jagged scar from eyebrow to jawline kept the smile from being symmetrical, but Spock could find no fault with it. 

Spock made a noise and felt a great well of disappointment within him when Jim startled, smile quickly repressed. 

“How’re you feeling there, Captain?” Jim inquired. His voice was unconcerned, but his eyes betrayed his worry. And fear, Spock realized. 

Jim had been frightened for him. 

Swallowing harshly, Spock coughed out, “Suboptimal.”

Jim barked a surprised laugh. “Yeah. A large chunk of metal through the side’ll do that to you.”

They stared at each other, Spock trying to remember the smile and Jim starting to fidget. 

“I treated you as well as I could,” Jim eventually told him, looking off to the side. The fingers of his metal hand tapped against the floor. “A few hypos - antibiotics, pain relievers, the usual suspects. I’m no expert, but I think I gave you the right dosages for a male Vulcan your age and size. You might need another dose of the pain meds soon. They’re strong, but they won’t last long for someone with your physiology. ”

Spock made to sit up and Jim immediately helped him, arms keeping Spock from sliding back down or aggravating his injury. Jim’s flesh hand was warm, his metal hand several degrees cooler, both sensations making Spock acutely aware of his own shirtlessness. 

Using the bulkhead to brace himself, Spock regarded Jim. “I owe you my gratitude.”

Jim immediately released him and turned away. “No, you don’t.”

Considering Jim’s obvious discomfort, Spock chose his next words carefully. Spock was tired and for once he wanted to express some of the emotions that he often so adamantly denied. “I am gratified by our partnership, Jim. And thankful for all you have done for me.”

Head snapping back towards Spock, Jim scanned Spock. There was a piercing quality to his eyes, as if he were searching Spock’s features for an explanation. “I…I’m sorry, you know.”

Spock didn’t expect that. Then again, Jim so often defied Spock’s expectations. Spock thought him a dishonest cheat at the academy. A careless mutineer with no respect on the Enterprise. A ruthless criminal when declared the most wanted man in the Federation. A madman when they first fought. A cruel man when they fought again. An impossible man when he saw the righteous, good, kind things Jim did under the guise of piracy.

Jim portrayed himself as many things and hid so much more. Spock wanted to know it all. 

“Apologies are highly illogical in this situation,” Spock told him bluntly. “You saved my life.”

A dark expression passed over Jim’s face. “This apology was long overdue.”

They shared a loaded look that spoke of their shared hurts and the substantial roles they played in augmenting them for each other. 

Spock’s fingers twitched where he set them on his thighs. “I return the sentiment.”

Jim’s mouth quirked, but he otherwise remained silent. 

They sat facing each other in quiet contemplation, Spock against the bulkhead and Jim with one leg stretched out, the other bent. His arms were crossed over the bent knee, metal fingers curled around a muscled forearm. 

The arm was a work of genius, a one of a kind creation by Montgomery Scott and Jim himself. Tarnish, oil and grease stains, and scuffs and scratches from countless fights hid the fact that it was a beautiful and elegant construction made of metal salvaged from Starfleet ships. The first time Spock had captured Jim, long before he understood anything about the other man, the engineering, science, and medical teams aboard the Enterprise had all been vastly impressed by the work that went into such an innovative, self-made prosthetic. 

Spock found himself focusing on the arm now. 

Jim noticed and grew stiffer, his expression flattening out. He flexed and extended his robotic fingers, the movements mesmerizing. He watched his own fingers with an intensity Spock could not interpret. 

He cleared his throat and addressed his hand. “Did you know that before this I was a real charmer?”

Spock straightened up as much as he could, attention fully focused on Jim. He wasn’t just speaking of the loss of his arm, Spock realized.

His mouth twisted humorlessly. “And I was starting to use it for the right reasons too. For a little while there, I liked who I was becoming.”

“When I had-” he broke off and stopped to recollect himself. “When I had Pike and Bones, I was better.”

He made brief eye contact with Spock, something surprisingly vulnerable in the depths of his gaze. “In another universe, I think I’m happy. Marcus is dead. I made it into Starfleet - the real Starfleet, not the tyrannical shitshow we’re fighting. Bones is alive. He’s with me. And I have…”

Something in the way he spoke filled Spock with a yearning he couldn’t quite control. 

“I have you,” Jim’s voice cracked. 

Spock could barely breathe. 

“Before we began working together, I found something,” Jim told him, voice strangled and eyes downcast. “An artifact, some kind of tech I can’t even begin to comprehend. It took me there. To that universe. And I met you.”

Jim’s hands clenched into anxious fists. “I didn’t realize it when I was there, I was so busy blaming you for everything. I was too selfish and angry and shitty to really see him. But after this year, since I’ve gotten to know you, I know what it was I missed. He was sad.”

Laughing croakily, Jim shook his head. “He was so goddamn sad. It was in his eyes. Your eyes. He looked at me and it was like I had ripped his heart out with my bare hands and I just…God, I’m such a fucking asshole.”

Tipping his head back, Jim looked upward. Spock’s eyes remained riveted on him. 

“He  _ cared _ ,” Jim eventually said, looking back at Spock with a desolate resignation. “About me. He wanted me back - his version of me. And I couldn’t fucking see it. I refused to see it. Because this version of me? This version of me is me at my worst.”

Chest constricting, Spock felt the urge to comfort Jim, to reach out, to provide proof in an argument against his self-degradation. 

But Jim continued before Spock could overcome his ingrained and natural reserve and act. 

“There’s a time and a place where I became worth something,” Jim told Spock, eyes limned in red. “Where I somehow got you to care about me. Can you believe that?”

Jim let out a laugh that transformed into a stricken sob.

He cut it off, burying his face in his hands. 

“Yes,” Spock answered honestly, mind racing and soul aching for his Jim. 

Jim’s hands fell into his lap, newly revealed eyes unbelieving. 

“I can, in fact, believe it,” Spock clarified, filled with purpose as the drugs left his system. While the pain became more noticeable, Spock’s mind - and heart, as his mother would have once said - cleared. “Existence is not a simple account of good and bad. So many factors are flexible, subjective, and ever changing. It is illogical to ascribe worthlessness to a life when all life holds value and should therefore be valued. In this universe, in all universes, you are worth something, Jim. And to me…you are worth everything.”

Jim made a wounded noise deep in the back of his throat.

“You are not the only one who regrets his actions,” Spock professed solemnly. “We have both allowed our grief to blind and mislead us. But no longer.”

“Spock, I…”

“I cherish thee,” Spock told him with absolute conviction, barely suppressing a wince as he turned more towards Jim and the motion pulled at his injury.

Jim wouldn’t look at him and Spock felt a great loss. 

“You need to get to a proper bed,” Jim told him in a rough whisper. 

He rose and helped Spock to his feet. 

Spock allowed himself to be escorted to the sleeping quarters despite the howling loneliness he felt at the lack of a reaction.

Easing Spock down onto the bed, Jim lingered at his side. He opened his mouth to speak, but words failed him. Spock’s breath once more caught in his lungs as Jim hesitantly held his fingers out in an unmistakable request. 

Spock answered it in the affirmative, his own fingers faintly trembling. 

“I love you too,” Jim mumbled. 

He tried to hurry away, but Spock was tired, life was hard, and he wanted to cling to this one bright thing that was capable of bringing him great pain, but also untold joy. 

His hand wrapped around Jim’s wrist, firm but loose enough to give Jim the option to leave. 

When Jim wordlessly crawled into the bed and curled around him, ever mindful of the injury, Spock felt a sense of rightness so profound it lulled him to the first peaceful sleep he had in several years. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Uhura, watching the Federation’s most wanted pirate kiss Spock on the cheek: Well, guess that’s happening.   
> Sulu: Didn’t they try to kill each other?  
> Uhura: Yeah, but a couple of years ago I was a communications officer and now I head the rebel resistance against a militarized version of my former organization. Things change. Stuff got weird.


	4. Live Long and Conquer

Spock pressed Jim against the bulkhead, pinning him by the throat. The other man didn’t fight against the assault, instead going limp and smirking. 

“So forward, Emperor Spock,” Jim teased, voice hollow from the constriction of Spock’s fingers. 

“The punishment for treason, sedition, or mutiny against the leader of the Vulcan Empire is death, Captain Kirk,” Spock reminded him. “Therefore, I see no logical reason why I shouldn’t kill the leader of the coup against me right now.”

Jim lashes fluttered as he made a thoughtful face. “So you aren’t interested in knowing who else I recruited into the plan to usurp you?”

Spock stared at Jim’s smug features. His face was growing increasingly red, but he seemed wholly unconcerned. “Tell me,” Spock demanded, tightening his hand. He could feel the dull pulse of Jim’s blood against this palm. 

“Harder,” Jim choked out, smirk growing crooked and playful. 

When Spock released him, Jim slid down coughing. 

Spock turned on his heel and shot the man a disdainful glare over his shoulder. Grabbing one of his swords from its mount, Spock pointed the bladed at him in a clear threat. “Perhaps decapitation will finally bring an end to your deviance.”

“Ah, baby, you seemed to enjoy my deviance last night,” Jim cooed, using the wall to prop himself back up. 

“I have elevated you higher than any other human in the Empire save my own mother,” Spock sneered. “And you have repaid me in betrayal. I will savor the feel of your blood on my hands.”

Manic eyes deadening into a dangerous sort of coldness, Jim laughed, sharp and unamused. “Really, is that how you’re going to thank me?”

His hold on the sword did not waver. “You expect gratitude for attempting to overthrow me?” 

“For finding out exactly how many of your admirals, captains, and officers could be talked into a coup in a matter of weeks,” Jim corrected. 

Spock lowered his weapon. “Give me their names.”

“Give me what I want,” Jim countered in a casual tone, adjusting his sash. 

Lips pressed together, Spock recalled with perfect clarity the captain’s request. “I have already addressed this, Jim. A bondmate is a weakness.”

Eyes now blazing with rage, Jim pointed at him and hissed, “Do I come across as weak to you?” 

“My own father was overthrown and exiled because his bond to my mother was used to manipulate him,” Spock sighed, realizing that he was never in any more danger than Jim normally posed to him. 

“Lucky you, you don’t have a son,” Jim snarked, bare arms flexing as he dusted himself off. “How is Sarek doing these days?”

“My mother says he has sworn to kill me and retake the title of Emperor,” Spock reported. 

Chuckling to himself, Jim twisted the rings around his fingers and straightened the badges pinned to his vest. “So nothing new.”

“Jim, I require the names,” Spock reiterated, bringing them back to the conversation at hand. 

“And I require you, guess we’re both leaving here disappointed,” Jim taunted, moving back to the door. 

Locking the door to prevent his departure, Spock insisted, “You will give me the names.”

“I might look a picture, Emperor, but don’t for one second think I’m just a pretty face,” Jim grinned meanly, teeth glinting. “I’ll make sure no one makes any moves, I’ll even take care of a few of them for you, but you aren’t getting those names.”

Hands curling into fists, Spock regarded the man who challenged him and his authority. “This is treason.”

“This is love,” Jim laughed delightedly. 

“You’re unstable,” Spock listed, “volatile, prone to abrupt changes in mood, and unprecedented in your mercilessness and violence.”

Shrugging his shoulders, Jim waved his hand to prompt Spock to continue. 

“I have always admired these qualities,” Spock admitted. “They make you my most effective captain and I find you…alluring. But in a bondmate, your unpredictability would leave me vulnerable.”

Cocking his head, Jim took a moment for a quick and perceptive look over Spock’s entire being. When he spoke, his voice was surprisingly calm. “Tell me, Emperor, have I ever given you cause to worry about your life or your position?”

Spock blinked at the simplicity of the question. And the easy answer. “Until this coup, no.”

“Then maybe you should think it over.”

With this, Jim ripped off the badge that marked him as a captain of the Vulcan Empire and threw it at Spock. 

Spock caught the badge and turned it over in his hands. 

A datachip was embedded in the back. 

Spock met Jim’s unwavering gaze. 

Reaching over, Spock pressed his comm and ordered, “Redirect course to Vulcan. Contact T’Pau and Amanda Grayson. Prepare for a bonding ceremony between myself and Captain James Tiberius Kirk.”

Jim grinned, wild and unhinged. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Pirate!Jim: I’ve done terrible things in my grief and rage, but I ultimately want to do what’s right and Spock has helped me relearn the gentler parts of myself.   
> Emperor Consort!Jim: Wow. Cannot relate. I love Spock and committing atrocities. Everything else can go fuck itself.


	5. Sandbox Love

Spock walked up to his mother and declared, “I have found he who is to be my husband.”

His mother visibly startled, staring at the boy clinging to Spock’s back. 

“Hi!” Jim adjusted his arms around Spock’s neck and shoulders, gaining a firmer hold. “I’m Jim.”

“Hello, Jim,” his mother greeted carefully. 

Jim moved one of his arms, losing balance. Spock provided firmer support with his own arms beneath Jim’s knees to keep him from falling. 

Hand out in a clumsy, but satisfactory salute, Jim offered, “Live long and prosper.”

“Peace and long life,” Spock’s mother offered in return. “Did you teach him that, Spock?”

“Affirmative,” Spock answered. 

“Spock said I have to learn how Vulcans do things for when I move there,” Jim told her happily. 

“Well, learning about other cultures is always a worthy pursuit,” his mother complimented. “But how about we exchange information before planning any weddings or big interplanetary moves.”

“What d’you think, Spock?” Jim asked in a half-whisper at Spock’s ear. 

“A logical course of action,” Spock approved. “However, I would like it to be known that Jim is my intended. Please inform Father so he may cancel the meeting with T’Pring’s house. 

“Oh, yeah, you gotta dump her,” Jim said at once. 

“Right,” Spock’s mother coughed. “Um. I’ll talk it over with your father. Speaking of which, Jim, where are your parents?”

Spock could feel Jim’s shrug against the back of his shoulders. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sulu: So how did the captain and commander meet?  
> Uhura: Spock said they were childhood sweethearts.  
> Jim, exiting the lift with Spock: Want to hear the story?! It’s super cute.  
> Bones, scowling: Spock stole you from a busy transport station in the middle of San Francisco. What’s so cute about a kidnapping?  
> Jim: First of all, I went willingly. Second, he gave me a piggy back ride. Third, his mom made sure I got home safe.  
> Uhura: Sounds pretty cute.  
> Sulu: Definitely cute.  
> Spock: It seems you are outnumbered, Doctor.  
> Bones, sighing: Yeah, whatever.


	6. King Takes King

Spock entered the chess club meeting room with little expectation. He was greeted familiarly and genuinely, but as the club members began to pair up, it became quite clear that none of them were interested in a match against him.

He had just resigned himself to a game against an AI opponent when a cadet entered, hands in his pockets and innocent curiosity in the tilt of his head. The cadet was undoubtedly well known, garnering far warmer welcomes than Spock himself received. 

“Kirk, you made it!” One of the more regular members waved a hand around the room. “You’re late, but the simulators are free and Commander Spock hasn’t started a match if you’d like a challenge.”

Spock faced the cadet at the same time the cadet turned to face him. Brilliant eyes looked him over with intelligent interest, followed by a beaming grin that took Spock aback. A stranger had never seemed so obviously pleased to see him.

“What do you say, Commander? I’m always up for a challenge.” His voice was pleasant, every inflection infused with emotion. 

Spock nodded his assent and indicated to one of the free boards. 

“I’m Jim Kirk,” the cadet introduced himself, settling in. “Black or white?”

“Spock,” he returned the civility while also turning the board to place his chosen side in front of him. He thought to work on his offensive strategy. 

Spock recognized the name Jim Kirk, having heard it spoken with a variety of emotions from several sources. Captain Pike seemed fond of and in favor of the cadet, but many of his colleagues expressed everything from annoyance to outright hostility towards the young man. Spock had also overheard some of the academy cadets speak of Jim Kirk in a far less professional capacity and they were…quite effusive. And explicit. 

Spock won the match, though it took much thought. Overall it was an intellectually enriching game. He waited for Jim to excuse himself as so many of the other members had before. They claimed to enjoy the challenge of playing Spock, but they rarely sought him out for further games with any kind of frequency. Spock thought the losses would be excellent learning opportunities, but it seemed defeat discouraged them - which unfortunately boded ill for their time in Starfleet.

Instead of saying his goodbyes after offering congratulations, Jim leaned forward, hands clasped under his chin. He regarded Spock, exuding unsuppressed excitement. “Another match, Commander?”

Spock agreed and felt his fascination grow as Jim’s strategy evolved right before his eyes. 

Jim won the second match and Spock readily agreed to a third. 

As the other members finished up with their own games, they slowly gathered around Spock and Jim’s board, watching in rapt attention. 

“I’ve never seen the commander take so long to win,” one of them muttered under their breaths. 

“I had no idea Jim was this good,” another mused. 

The third round ended with Spock’s narrow and hard earned victory. 

As they all left, much of the club still discussing Spock’s match with Jim, Jim himself offered Spock a tentative smile. 

“Care for a cup of coffee, Commander?” 

“Please, you may call me Spock.” He considered the other man’s question. “I do not drink coffee.”

“Oh,” Jim sighed, looking briefly disappointed. Then he offered another hopeful look. “Tea?”

Spock assented and earned another pleased smile. 

When they finished their drinks, Jim hummed thoughtfully. “Do you want to join me for dinner? I know a vegetarian place.”

Spock nodded, gratified by the continuation of their evening. 

Their more than satisfactory dinner consumed, Jim rolled his head lazily, eyes heavy lidded. “Want to go back to my place?”

Spock agreed. 

“Fuck me, you’re good at this,” Jim groaned. 

Eyebrow raised, Spock glanced at Jim from over the chessboard, completing his final move and taking Jim’s king. 

“You are also a highly skilled opponent,” Spock complimented, watching attentively as Jim licked his lips. “I have found our time together rewarding.”

Jim ducked his head and glanced from under his eyelashes, a coy smile lifting his mouth crookedly. “Thanks, Spock. Want to do this again sometime?”

“Do you have any prior engagements tomorrow?” 

“Free as a bird,” Jim told him. “When and where do you want to meet?”

Spock maintained purposeful eye contact with the other man. “I believe there is a well established diner .4 miles from this location. I have often enjoyed their breakfast.”

Jim swallowed noticeably, pupils dilating. “Mr. Spock, I’d be delighted.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TOS!Kirk: So all you did...was play chess with them...and then you got together romantically?   
> Woman!Kirk: Yeah, but I mean, we also knew each other pretty well first.   
> Academy!Kirk, hanging off his Spock’s arm: Not us. We literally played chess and started dating the same day. Couldn’t have taken more than a few hours tops. Super easy, no drama. Been inseparable ever since.   
> AOS!Kirk: Cool cool cool. So you’re dead to me.   
> TOS!Kirk: I’m with him.


End file.
